


Humidity

by mellish



Category: D.Grayman
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-19
Updated: 2010-04-19
Packaged: 2017-10-09 00:59:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/81298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mellish/pseuds/mellish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyki finds Rhode in the garden, intently cutting flowers for a certain boy.  Oneshot, written in 2008.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Humidity

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kaidensu](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=kaidensu).



> Written for the [D.Grayman gift exchange community](http://community.livejournal.com/dgray_gifts/10697.html#cutid1), for the Summer round (hence the theme). Does not take place at any distinct time in canon.

Tyki finds her in the garden, squatting next to the rose bushes, with her knees in the dirt and her short dress puffing around them. She is hacking away at the stems with what looks to be a very blunt pair of scissors. Her tongue is poking out of the corner of her mouth and her eyes are fixed on the flowers with a concentration she never applies to homework. He regards her for a moment, wondering if he should creep up behind her and whisper that he can almost see up her skirt, because _somebody_ has to teach that child propriety; only just as he is deciding against it she says, without even lifting her head, _Hey, Tyki_.

_Hey_, he answers, and then he walks over and stretches out his long legs next to her. _What are you up to? _

_I'm making a bouquet_, she answers primly. She's still stuck on the same flower, squeezing the scissors tight between her fingers, which are holding the stem without care and getting pricked all over with thorns. He notices the basket by her side, full of haphazardly cut roses, only half of them with stems.

_For who?_ He takes off his top hat and settles it on his chest, and immediately the sun lashes its rays upon his face – he lifts up a hand to cover his eyes, tilting his head back. It is a hot summer, much too hot for a coat and vest; but he has to dress properly when he's on family grounds, and besides his only other clothes are reserved for when he is masquerading as someone who walks in the light. It's a good thing he's black, these days. He can only stand the light when it isn't scorching. It's always more of a comfort to be with family when the weather is being disagreeable.

_A boy_. She giggles. He takes in her giggle, sweet and tinkly, enough to coax out demons and make even the Earl melt into puddles when she uses it on him (and it's not fair that she has that effect on the Earl, but when have things ever been fair? Certainly never for Tyki – he has to make things right his own way), and it's refreshing, like a glass of cold water.

He wipes the sweat off his brow and asks, _what boy_?

_Hmm_, she hums. _Don't you wonder_. But her tone of voice means that he knows, and she knows he knows, and certainly they both know, there's only _one_ boy that's been on Rhode's mind recently, and it isn't her father or the Earl or her dear uncle Tyki. He smiles. Rhode is pretty good at keeping secrets; for her to be obvious like this means that she either trusts them all very much, or doesn't think anything serious will ever come of this fascination she has for that exorcist kid.

She probably knows: they're too different. He's too white, too noble, far too in love with the humans to ever be one of them, at least not entirely. Rhode can be extremely wicked when she wants to be. (Sometimes, when Tyki has just stopped enjoying his mortal mask, the things Rhode says and does can actually _frighten_ him.) If it's a matter of corruption, then he wouldn't mind, exactly; what he does know is that keeping that boy in the midst of this war, whether or not his Innocence is really the one loved by God, is part of what makes the game so interesting.

He always likes a challenge, and anyway, he still has a bone to pick with that boy for all the cheating he did during their poker match.

_When will you give it to him? _

_When I see him next. I'll make sure it's soon_. She picks up the newly-chopped flower and holds it to her face, turning to look at Tyki at last. _He's very polite. I bet he'll at least say 'thank you'. _

Tyki takes the flower from between her fingers, which are stained red, and clucks his tongue at her handiwork. _But this isn't cut properly at all; you're supposed to slice the stem slanting, so that the flower will last longer even without watering_. He fishes around in his coat pocket for a knife, and whittles the edge away cleanly, so that the end is sharply diagonal.

She watches this closely, and nods her head when he is done. _Yeah, I want them to live for as long as possible. _

He hands the rose back to her, and the knife, smiling warmly. _And don't forget to pick off the thorns. You have to get rid of them, or else you'll hurt him_.

Rhode giggles again, more loudly this time, holding up her battered fingers to her lips and snickering. _That's the point, silly_.

He blinks for a moment, then decides it's very much like her to do something like that. _Ah. I see_.

She takes the knife and the rose, and begins to fish through her basket, fixing the stems in the way he showed her. He lets her finish the task, resting his head rest against the grass, closing his eyes against the glare of the sun. The Earl is so old-fashioned about their appliances; they have to make do with paper fans when he's around, even if there are tons of Akuma they could use for manning the central air-conditioning system.

He doesn't know how long it takes for her to finish; maybe he dozes off, or just continues thinking about nothing, until at last she leans back and lies on the grass next to him. Time passes more slowly in the estates of the Earl; in the company of family, he feels no need to rush.

In the silence, she lets out a long sigh.

_Something the matter? _

_I was just thinking._ She props herself up on one elbow. _Do boys even like flowers? _

Tyki contemplates this for a moment. Then, with a certain degree of authority: _Of course they do_.

She smiles, so that all her pointy little teeth show. _Thanks, Tyki_. She pushes herself upright, dusting off the bits of soil and blades of grass on her clothes, and then she reaches out a hand to him. It's sticky and full of little nicks when he takes it. Before he stands, he presses a kiss onto each of her knuckles – this makes her giggle again.

_Don't forget to put band-aids over this later, princess. The Earl will get mad. Your hands are precious, after all_.

She raises her eyebrows at him. _Next time you can lend me your gloves_.

She stands on tiptoe and replaces the hat on his head; he picks up her basket of flowers.

_Come on_, she sings out. _I'll make some lemonade_. Arm-in-arm, they waltz back into the mansion.


End file.
